


What It Says on the Torchwood Tin

by Riennynn



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-03 08:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 4,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2844716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riennynn/pseuds/Riennynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles, musings, and short snippets of our favorite alien-fighting team.  As is fitting for Torchwood, it's a mix of humor, angst, drama, and fluff.</p><p>...and most of the time, CoE didn't happen as intended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Who is Jack?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parapraxis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parapraxis/gifts).



> Inspired by the wonderful badly_knitted whose Torchwood Drabble Files and Nosy-Verse make me smile on the worst days. Dedicated to my Prax for her unflinching support and friendship.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the importance of self-identity

What, Jack muses late one night in his bunker, is really in a name?

He's been Jack Harkness for so long, wearing the identity like the greatcoat from the second World War.  

He's brilliant grins and waggling eyebrows, just this side of inappropriate at all times to keep people laughing so they don't see the man underneath.

 


	2. More than a Shag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What sex means to Jack

Most people who see Jack and his casual flirtation think that he's a casual shag.

"He'll shag anything if it's gorgeous enough," Tosh opines.

"You're just his part-time shag," Owen sneers at Ianto.

Gwen holds out hope that despite her commitment to Rhys, the unrequited connection will some day bear fruit.

In reality, Jack comes from a century when mores and social practice are so completely different that twenty-first century definitions and labels are impossible to apply.  In his time, physical affection is shared freely between friends and may be just that - affection, no more intimate than a hug.  It's a means of comfort in a wide-ranging universe, a celebration of life.  

Jack sees the beauty, that spark of life no matter the exterior.  Male, female, both, neither, it's not important to him.  Life, living, that's the intoxication.

He's used his body to thank someone for a favor, to gain needed information.

He's used his body to manipulate and lie during his stint with the Time Agency and his post-Agency conman days.

He's lain with friends, lovers, enemies, strangers.

To Jack though, it's never casual.


	3. In the Aerie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myfanwy is more than just a pet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place before and immediately after Cyberwoman

Before the team discovered Lisa ( _before_ , his mind supplies), he would go up to talk to her, another lonely creature out of place.

After, he couldn't bring himself to avoid her.  She has no malice, only following her instincts and training.

When he's his own ghost inhabiting the Hub, cleaning and carrying and filing and doing his silent penance, she's his only companion.  

He sits in her nest, petting her scaly flank, letting her rest her beak on his thigh.  She tries to gather him under her wings, cooing softly in her harsh prehistoric voice.

Below, Jack watches the scene from the monitors at his desk.  He sees the heartbreak and regret, sees the pain.  Sees one lone dinosaur keeping Ianto from slipping too far away from reality.

He'll reach out to the other man soon.  He's bent so far, but hasn't broken.  He deserves so much more.


	4. Reflections in Espresso

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Torchwood occasions marked by (hot) beverages.

An outsider might notice that the Hub's residents seem oddly ungrateful for the steaming mugs that appear at their elbows without comment.

Ianto's moods are expressed in the shots he pulls from the coffee machine:

...dark and rich with a smoky hint and swirled with fresh cream on a winter night after a Weevil chase.

...cappuccinos topped with airy soy milk foam and a sprinkle of cinnamon for Tosh when she's having a bad day.

...black and strong for Owen with three sugars slipped in when behind the bluster he's in pain.  

...instant decaf when Owen pushes too far and lashes out.

...raspberry lattes for Gwen, double strong and double sweet.

...hot chocolate with a single shot and a peppermint stick, shared with Jack in the bunker while their sweat cools after a round of lazy lovemaking.


	5. Christmas Critters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rift occasionally has a sense of humor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually kept a strict 100-words for once!

Christmas Eve and Cardiff is decked with tinsel and brightly colored baubles.

Ianto doesn’t feel jolly racing down an alley after tiny scampering creatures bent on making off with all of the decorations in the City Centre, leaving silver objects in their wake.

Tosh is madly scanning when she trips on one of said triangular objects, breaking the heel of her second-favorite pair of velvet slingbacks and careening into Owen’s backside.

Owen in turn topples over, flailing and groping Gwen in the process.

Gwen decks Owen. 

Jack rounds the corner, suitably chastened aliens in tow, happily munching something.

“Chocolate kisses?”


	6. Mincemeat Pies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen contemplates the Weevils. A fluffy drabble for the sake of it!

The King of the Weevils sat on the floor outside Janet's cell, watching as she eyed him mournfully from the other side of the Perspex.

He slid a small covered tray through the foodslot and leaned back, waiting for Janet to react.  Her nostrils flared, clearly curious, and he could have sworn he felt foreign thoughts pressing just outside the surface of his mind.

One clawed hand shot out, knocking the cover aside and snatching the item off the tray.

Footsteps behind him, reflection of a pinstriped suit coming slowly into focus.

"What's she eating?" Ianto asked curiously.

"Mincemeat pie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my headcanon, Owen died as shown in 'Reset' and was revived. After wrangling Death, he somehow (*cough* still working on it) regains his life.


	7. Mistaken Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rift leads Jack somewhere strangely familiar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my Prax.

Tosh's Rift predictor detected the probability of an event at 89.6 percent at 3:39 am.  Leaving Ianto slumbering in his bed, Jack dressed and left the Hub, following the signal down the coast in the SUV.

Stopping at a carpark in Sully, he paused to take in the brisk sea wind, turning his collar up against the breeze.  He continued on foot down the beach, hopping over a chainlink stanchion and blithely ignoring the PRIVATE RESIDENCES sign.

His Vortex Manipulator beeped, indicating activity at a nearby beachfront house.  Ahead of him, a man and two dogs tussled in the house's back garden.  Jack waited until the man was bent over, admiring the view before sauntering up to the fence.

"Lovely night," he called out, noting that the man's head shot up instantly, turning to stare at the house before facing him.  Jack put on his best smile.  Damn but the man was gorgeous, sandy hair blowing over his face and sinewy forearms.

"Very funny," the man planted his hands firmly on his hips and quirked an eyebrow.  British accent too, definitely more attractive by the moment.

The dogs, a yipping Jack Russell and black-haired spaniel, ran towards the house and scrabbled at the patio doors.

Jack eyed the man's toned pectoral muscles as the wind plastered his T-shirt to his chest.  "Jack Harkness, and you are...?"

The man rolled his eyes - a piercing blue in the floodlights - before muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, "of course you are."

Someone besides Ianto who was immune to his charm?  He leaned closer and placed a hand on the man's forearm.  Very nicely muscled in a lanky way.  "What do you say you invite me in for a drink?"

The patio door banged open just as Jack's Manipulator beeped, indicating that the Rift energy had dispersed harmlessly.

"Scottie?" another man's voice came from inside the house, sounding surprisigly like Jack's but higher in pitch.  "Who are you talking to?"

The man shook his arm free and gave Jack a pointed look.  "I think it's time you were going.  My husband and I would like to have a quiet evening."

Despite what his team might say, Jack could take a hint.  "Nice meeting you, Scottie," he winked.

As he strolled away back to the SUV, he heard footsteps behind him.  Turning, he watched the handsome man step into the house.  The wind carried his words down to the beach as the patio door shut again.

"John, I swear your fans are getting stranger every day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless use of a certain very handsome Englishman :)


	8. New Year...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The threats Torchwood faces pause for no holiday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Torchwood New Year's shenanigans Part 1 / ?

Gwen announced her intention to throw a Torchwood Three New Year's celebration to mixed team responses.

Tosh smiled and offered to bring champagne.  She didn’t have any other plans and ringing in the new year with her friends sounded better than watching it on the telly.

Owen rolled his eyes, but secretly hoped he could sneak a kiss with Tosh at midnight.  He really was tired of anonymous pub hookups.

Jack launched into a story on how New Year’s parties on Traxius Five involved ritual nudity and dancing.  With body paint. 

Ianto rolled his eyes and set about ordering Chinese.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued in "...Nothing Changes"


	9. ...Nothing Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Torchwood New Year's shenanigans continue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation from Chapter 8: "New Year".
> 
> Double drabble~

Tosh returned to the Hub with three bottles of champagne and a package of cheap plastic flutes from Tesco.  Ianto accepted the bags from her with a nod, appreciating her thoughtfulness and glad they wouldn't have to toast each other with coffee mugs.

Gwen rushed about plopping party hats with tinsel pompoms on everyone’s head, much to Owen’s disgust and Jack’s delight.  At least she picked one with silver and red stripes that matched Ianto’s tie.

The alert sounded, signaling someone at the Tourist Office door, and he headed upstairs, discreetly disposing of the gaudy hat.

Mushroom chicken sounded delicious.

  _** TW ** TW ** TW **_

Chopsticks lay scattered across the boardroom table, and Ianto frowned at the greasy smears of plum sauce leftover from the mu shu pork.  His frown turned into a wince as Jack leaned on the table with a hearty laugh, elbow landing right in the middle of a puddle of the sticky brown substance.

Owen crumbled a fortune cookie half on a serviette but mostly onto the floor as Gwen gushed about Rhys’ New Year’s resolution to take her out on more fancy date nights.

The clock struck midnight as they toasted, followed immediately by a Rift alarm.

Sometimes nothing changes…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued in "Everything Stays the Same"


	10. Everything Stays the Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a new year, are there new threats?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of the Torchwood New Year. Continues from "...Nothing Changes" and "New Year".

Holstering his Webley, Jack wondered if he should have eaten so much Peking duck.  He listened with a smirk as Gwen made a similar complaint about her waistline, spinning the SUV into a hairpin turn just to make Ianto glare at him in the rearview mirror.

Ahead, a garish bright pink space cruiser smoked ominously from where it had crashed into a restaurant on the quay.  As they watched, it dissolved into a spray of…pink tadpoles?

“Get the fishing nets and break out the Retcon,” he sighed.  “Looks like we’ve got Gorfs.”

“Gorfs?” Owen sputtered.

“You don’t want to know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more chapter, according to my muse.


	11. Gorfs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pink tadpoles on New Year's Day can only spell one thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final installment of the Torchwood Three New Year's shenanigans. For now, at least :). Follows on "New Year", "...Nothing Changes", and "Everything Stays the Same".

Ianto accessed the mobile archives on his PDA.  “Gorfs.  From the planet Naibihpma.  Mature into thirty-meter long carnivorous creatures.”

Gwen flashed her warrant card to the crowd of confused diners, a wide smile plastered on her face.  “Just a New Year’s blimp gone awry, everything is fine!”  Behind them, Tosh and Owen dropped Retcon into water and wine glasses.

Jack shouldered his fishing net, spraying the water with a small bottle.  “What was that?” Ianto queried.

“Anti-Gorf serum.  They’re major pests in the forty-first century.”  The water lit up with sparkling supernovas as the Gorfs exploded.

The drunken crowd cheered.


	12. Tea for Toshiko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tea says a lot about a person. Ianto speaks this language with care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoy characterizing people with their chosen food and beverages, particularly from Ianto's perspective as there is very little detail that ever escapes his notice. It's Tosh's turn this time.

Tea says a lot about a person. 

Ianto speaks this language with care.

Tosh isn’t interested in an elaborate tea ceremony, but appreciates the subtleties involved with brewing her favorite comfort beverage.

Water just off the boil, full-leaf English Breakfast steeped exactly four minutes and twenty-two seconds for optimum flavor.  One splash of milk, no sugar.

Green tea with roasted brown rice, water cooled to prevent bitterness, no milk or sugar for an upset stomach.

Water at 80ºC poured over white tea with delicate hints of apricot and a spoonful of honey when she’s at work on an impossible project.


	13. Suzie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suzie Costello was more than a woman possessed by the Resurrection Glove.

Ianto remembered the Suzie from before - before Gwen Cooper became entangled with Torchwood, before that alien glove had taken over her mind.

She had been the first person Jack introduced him to at the Hub, cheerful and sarcastic by turns.  After taking one careful look at him, from his immaculately gelled hair to the expensive Italian leather shoes, she'd nodded with a "he'll do" and wandered back to her work station.

Later on, after Owen roundly insulted his manner of dress and Tosh smiled shyly, Suzie tossed him a Dairy Milk bar and asked about the pteranodon.

The woman who liked her Madras curry extra spicy and prawn wraps with garlic slowly became a close-mouthed shadow of her former self.  No more discussing rugby over coffee or trading books of poetry and spy thriller novels.

He still missed her.

 


	14. What A Pair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tosh knows Jack is up to something.

When Tosh finally surfaced from the Pindari transmuter module strewn in pieces across her work table, it took a few moments for reality to reassert itself.  

A glance at the clock told her it was 3:41. Past lunch.  Had she eaten?  Tosh frowned until she spied the crumpled remains of the paper wrapper which Ianto had dropped off at her elbow when he made his lunch run earlier in the day.

Prodding a soggy chip, she licked salt off her fingers and idly wondered why it was so quiet in the Hub.  She vaguely remembered Gwen and Owen heading out to Swansea on a call about a six-legged octopus (would that be a hexapus?) talking to schoolchildren.  Glancing up, she saw the light was on in Jack's office and he appeared to be studiously working on paperwork at his desk.  Ianto was nowhere to be seen, but was probably buried in the Archives somewhere.

Standing, Tosh popped her lower vertebra with a sigh and headed up the stairs to tell Jack that the transmuter was fully functional...assuming one had eight fingers and a telepathic proboscis.

TW ~ TW ~ TW ~ TW

Barely three minutes into her explanation about contact points and psi-nodes, she noticed that Jack was barely paying attention.  He usually listened for at least the first ten minutes before idly doodling on his blotter (they tended to be risqué caricatures) or rocking his chair precariously on its back legs.

In fact, the last time she'd seen him this engrossed in his paperwork, Ianto was brassed off about constantly having to force the Captain to complete the necessary forms.  Tosh privately suspected Jack enjoyed annoying his erstwhile lover just so that he could apologize with makeup sex.

Frowning thoughtfully, she paused her report and watched as Jack continued to nod at intervals and hum with what seemed to be appropriate interest.  Tosh rocked back on her heels just enough to catch sight of the toe of a fine Italian leather shoe peeking out from under the wooden desk.

Ahhhh.

She set down the transmuter with a bit more force than necessary, raising an eyebrow when an answering thump sounded from under the desk.

"Err, sorry," Jack mumbled.  "Been sitting too long and...banged my knee."

She was sure that was an indelicate snort of laughter that emerged from somewhere south of his blotter.

"Right, well, I better leave you to your files," Tosh said blandly.  "After all, we know how Ianto is after everyone to stay up to date."

Jack's knuckles were turning white where they gripped the pen and chair arm.

"Right."  The Captain's smile was strained at the edges.  "Ummm, thanks Tosh...for your report on the...uhhh...artifact.  Why don't you head home?  I'll...file it away later."

She turned to leave, watching the glass wall reflection of Jack's expression morph to a mixture of relief and suppressed lust.  Briefly, an ache of warmth surfaced behind her navel that she ruthlessly quashed.

"Make sure you finish those forms, Jack.  Otherwise Ianto will have you by the balls for sure."

As she closed the door, she heard a throaty gasp and a muttered, "oh gods, he already does."

With a rueful smile, Tosh set the CCTV to save a copy of the encrypted feed into Jack's office to her private archives and packed up her laptop. Time to get some real work done.

 


	15. Blue

"I swear, if it's not Blowfish on crack it's some slimy tentacled thing wanting to colonize the garbage skips in Splott with vacation homes.  Why can't we just let people suffer?"  Owen groused miserably, collapsing on the worn sofa in the Hub.  Gwen was already slumped into her desk chair, bits of mud and alien goo streaking her leather jacket, and Tosh looked little better as she tossed a pair of ruined heels into a bin bag.

"No coffee," Ianto told them all sternly.  "Jack says you're all supposed to sleep."

"Didn't he also say not to go anywhere near the rest of the population of Cardiff until we're all a bit less blue?" Tosh wondered long-sufferingly.

A series of thumps caused everyone's head to turn (slowly and painfully) towards Jack who stood in the doorway looking altogether too awake and cheerful for the situation.  "I did.  You can all bunk here.  We even have sleeping bags.  It can be a Torchwood slumber party!"

Four voices groaned in unison.

 


	16. Black and White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fifty-first century has many different views from twenty-first century Earth. Some things, however, are universal.

The cog door finished rolling shut behind Owen, Tosh, and Gwen.  A rare quiet Rift night meant that Jack had given his team the evening off, promising to stay behind and monitor things with Ianto.  If that last statement had been accompanied by a salacious leer and waggling eyebrows, well, he could be forgiven for wanting his Welshman all too himself.

Said Welshman was seated on the sofa, jacket hung carefully out of the way and tie loosened.  As Jack watched, Ianto shot his cuffs and rolled his sleeves up to expose his forearms before picking up a book from the coffee table.  He studied the back cover as the Captain prowled closer, studiously ignoring the way Jack leaned on Tosh's desk and shoved his hands in his pockets to best display certain areas.

After watching him in silence for a minute, Jack pouted a little before brightening at the thought that Ianto might be playing a game.  He loved Ianto's games.  Ignore-Jack-until-he-strips-naked-and-starts-without-me seemed to be one of his favorites, despite the unaffected exterior he projected.  Or perhaps it was pretend-to-be-tired-until-Jack-offers-to-keep-Ianto-up-all-night?  

Best to open with something nonchalant.  "So...what would you like to do tonight?"

The front cover of the book cracked open and Ianto idly paged through.  "Thought I'd stay here and read, actually."

Unclipping his braces, Jack made a show of stretching, grinning when Ianto raised an eyebrow.  Leaning across Ianto's lap, he gave the most wicked close-mouthed kiss imaginable before reaching down and plucking the book from the other man's hands.

Ianto had just opened his mouth to respond to the kiss when Jack abruptly stiffened.  The switch from playful to deadly serious was jarring, and seemingly without reason.  "Jack?"

"Where did you get this?" Jack didn't bother attempting to sound disinterested.

"The book?  It's Gwen's, she left it here.  She's been raving about it as romantic and somewhat...kinky.  I thought it would appeal to you of all people."  There was no censure in his tone, only puzzlement.  Jack never objected to a bit of light bondage, not with the number of creative uses they'd found for ties and braces and handcuffs.

"This," Jack sounded like he was gritting his teeth, "is not kinky.  This is...this..."

Ianto sat up.  "Jack, it's a bit of badly written fiction.  They're even making a movie out of it.  Bit of trash if you ask me, but women seem to like Fifty Shades of Grey just fine.  What's the issue?"

Jack held the book like a particularly disgusting alien artifact.  One that might have teeth, or carry plague.  

"Ianto, in my time, laws and people have changed.  There's rehab for everything, even murder.  People are open to many things that the twenty-first century can't even imagine.  This book though?  It's dangerous."  

He was pacing with agitation, and Ianto stood, catching his arm firmly.  "Why is the book a problem, Jack?"

"Did you know there's only one crime in the fifty-first century still punishable by death?"

Ianto blinked at the apparent non-sequitur.  "Don't tell me it's purple prose."

Jack's frown didn't lighten.  If anything, it became a little darker.  "Ianto.  The only crime still punishable by death is rape.  People can have sex with whoever they choose, in any combination as long as there is consent.  The most vicious crime one being can commit upon another is coercion or outright against their will.  Sex is meant to be joyous, a celebration of living.  To force it on someone unwilling or unable to say yes, to take away that joy...that's worse than murder because the victim has to live with it.

"This book glorifies coercion.  It cloaks abuse as care.  It uses sex to manipulate and destroy and people in this century think it's ok."

Ianto finally closed a jaw he hadn't realized was hanging open.  It explained so much about Jack, and yet left him with so many more questions.  More immediately though, he understood why someone from the future might look back on the twenty-first century as a primitive era.  

Very gently, he took the book from Jack and dropped it in the bin with other waste to be incinerated.

"Ianto."

"Jack?"

"You understand, don't you?  The difference between what we do and...that?"

"Yes."  One word, so many meanings.  

The stormy blue of Jack's eyes cleared, and Ianto gripped his hands.

"Let's have a quiet night in, Jack."

 

 

 


	17. Live Long and Prosper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written in honor of the wonderful Leonard Nimoy. He will be greatly missed by so many.

Of all the things Jack expected to find when he unlocked the front door of Ianto's flat at 2 a.m., it wasn't to find his lover wrapped in the duvet watching Star Trek.  On screen, the technicolor 60's effects looked cheesy and staged, the dialogue stilted, and yet Ianto was enraptured, mouthing along with the characters as they spoke.

"Leonard Nimoy died today, Jack."

Also not the greeting he was expecting.  Dropping the bag of fish and chips on the coffee table,  Jack wrapped an arm around Ianto's shoulders.  He vaguely recalled the name from movie posters, but nothing more.  

After a brief pause, during which a badly made-up "alien" was hit was an energy beam, Ianto continued, addressing the television screen.  "He was a childhood hero of mine, you know.  I wanted to be a Vulcan so badly, to shut off my emotions when Mam died and Da drank himself into a stupor.  This was my escape.  Considering what we do and everything we see, this should be ridiculous, but I still watch it every time."

Jack felt a twinge in his chest, and had to clear his throat before speaking.  "I felt the same way about my Be'naxian holovid collection.  Used to experience the holos with my family every weekend."

Ianto settled more comfortably against his chest, opening the bag of food and silently passing over paper-wrapped fish.

They passed the rest of the late night in silence, moving through the first Star Trek movie as Ianto patiently explained the characters and plot to Jack.  The twenty-second century was ancient history by the time he'd gone through the Time Agency, and certainly never featured rainbow-hued warp drive.  The transporter accident left a chill in his spine, a reminder of the results of transmat gone terribly wrong.  He attempted to tell Ianto what the natives of Delta V *actually* looked like (two heads, three limbs, and dimensional shielding) before being shushed and told to just watch.

By the time dawn broke, Ianto was asleep in Jack's arms.  Jack paused to smooth the hair back from his face, wrapping the duvet closer around his lover in the morning chill.  

On screen, Leonard McCoy was addressing Jim Kirk about Spock's death.

_"He's not really dead, as long as we remember him."_

Jack thought about his memories of people long gone, and carefully moved until he could reach the remote and switch the DVD player off.

He would remember this.


	18. It's the Button on the Top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was Ianto actually up to under Jack's desk? Continuation of Chapter 11: "What a Pair"

When Tosh entered Jack's office to give her report on the Pindari transmuter, Ianto was busily watching the man's trembling inner thighs. Teasing fingertips danced over sensitive flesh as Jack attempted to complete the pile of paperwork on his blotter.

_"I'm completely capable of resisting, Ianto."_

_"Prove it.  You can't even go thirty seconds without being distracted when I'm in the room."_

Ianto had just finished wrapping his tie around the base of Jack's balls - the better to drive him mad - when he heard the clicking of heels.  Pivoting them neatly so that he was concealed under the desk, he let the barest hint of a smirk dance over his lips.  Above him, Jack's breathing became labored as he idly tickled a hipbone.

He was so engrossed in tracing patterns with his tongue and watching the fine hairs on Jack's thigh twitch as he blew on them that the thump overhead made him straighten sharply.  The back of his head connected with the underside of the desk, left hand involuntarily squeezing the flesh it encased.  

Jack's knuckles were white.

He listened with half an ear to Tosh's parting comments, chuckling evilly.

As the cog door rolled shut and signaled their solitude, he clicked the button on the stopwatch.

"Time."  The word was almost a purr.

He'd have to be sure he saved the CCTV footage for her.


	19. Jones, Ianto Jones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look past the surface.
> 
> (Inadvertent perfect 100 words! I blame Ianto.)

Contrary to popular belief, Ianto wasn't biddable by nature.  

Owen mistook quiet dignity for meekness.  

Gwen saw service as subservience.

Tosh...well, Tosh knew better.

So did Jack.

In fact, Jack experienced a visceral thrill every time Ianto acquiesced to one of his requests.  He might be ducking his head to hide the indulgent amusement in his eyes, but the set of his shoulders belied whatever submissive posture he was in.  There was no deference as he opened his mouth to receive, the barely-there scrape of his teeth reminding Jack who was really in control.

Captain Jack Harkness had no complaints.


	20. Origami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone in the Hub has a paper-folding frenzy

When small paper cranes, folded out of scribbled-over reports, appear on the coffee table in the Hub, Ianto assumes their tech wizard had a late night and restless fingers while waiting for a program to complete.  He arranges them neatly along the ledge above the back of the couch with a smile.

Two days later, Gwen finds a delicate flower fascinator formed out of newsprint on her handbag just before a friend's hen night.  She leaves an extra large bag of Minstrels on Tosh's desk in return and heads off.  The hangover the next morning is completely worth it, slightly worse-for-wear fascinator hanging askew from her monitor.

Owen receives a gum-wrapper stethoscope that he loudly protests is tacky but secretly saves in his desk drawer.

Over the weekend, a miniature set of demitasse cups complete with saucers materialize next to the coffee machine.  Ianto brings Tosh a mocha with sprinkles and a hug, failing to notice her slightly puzzled expression.

***********

Jack looks up from his desk at the knock on the doorframe, smiling widely and gesturing his visitor inside.  "Come in Tosh, what can I do for you?"

"Ummm Jack...it's weird, but everyone has been so - so *nice* lately it's a bit odd."

Jack fiddles with something in his lap, and suddenly Tosh decides it might be a good idea to take off without any further questions.

"Never mind.  Have a good night!"

He offers her a tiny bouquet of orchids, resplendent in the splashy colors of the tourist office fliers.  "Goodnight Tosh."

 


End file.
